


i wonder where the moments go

by cacoona



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, POV Third Person Limited, Sad Ending, Suicide, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, Wilbur Soot-centric, but honestly when doesnt he, lowercase intended, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:00:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28730067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cacoona/pseuds/cacoona
Summary: wilbur looks down, surveying the river that stands at least fifty meters below him. the water rushed and maneuvered past the big boulders lodged at the bottom of the river. if wilbur jumped, would his body become that of a rock? surely not, the current of the river would push his body down the stream, just like every other small rock.a sigh escapes his mouth. oh to be remembered, the ultimate dream. wilbur feels its unfair that most don't get to live that dream, but he guesses it's inevitable.AKA: wilbur isn't happy, so he does what he needs to.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 45





	i wonder where the moments go

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey! heres some notes:
> 
> 1\. do not show this to the cc's at all and do not mention it! i doubt this fic will become popular but please respect my personal boundaries. if wilbur expresses discomfort with non-shipping fanfiction or something on the lines of that, this fic will be taken down immediately. 
> 
> 2\. please read the tags! there is potentially triggering content in here, specifically regarding suicide and thoughts related to it. the description will be kind of in depth, so again please click off if you have any triggers relating to it.
> 
> enjoy the read!

he walked along the bridge with frigid brighton breezes shooting at him, stinging his ankles where his pants were a tad too short to cover. stars plagued the black night sky. wilbur would've probably thought the sight would be beautiful a few years ago. 

leaning his arms on the railing of the bridge, he interlocked his fingers together. 

he remembers being on this bridge with phil, tommy, fundy and niki. they were meeting up for the first time, and about halfway through the day they stopped and chatted here about small, meaningless things. small bursts of people would watch the group as they walked by their conversation to the other side of the bridge.

he wonders what those innocent bystanders would think if they saw him like this, at his absolute worst. would they think negatively of him, assume he's just wasting his precious time? or would they pity him, like most others, and offer him fake smiles and strained support. wilbur cringed internally at the thought. pity was never something he had enjoyed.

wilbur looks down, surveying the river that stands at least fifty meters below him. the water rushed and maneuvered past the big boulders lodged at the bottom of the river. if wilbur jumped, would his body become that of a rock? surely not, the current of the river would push his body down the stream, just like every other small rock.

a sigh escapes his mouth. oh to be remembered, the ultimate dream. wilbur feels its unfair that most don't get to live it, but he guesses it's probably inevitable. 

he left his phone at home, just to avoid the cliche that is giving up and just messaging someone about it. he didn't want his plans ruined tonight. of course, like any gentleman, he has a scheduled tweet to be posted tomorrow announcing his suicide note. if there was anyone he should be saying his ultimate goodbyes to, it's his fans. they deserve to know, even if it will hurt most of them.

because of those who would hurt because of him, wilbur also made sure that he was completely sober for this. no matter what, if he was going to do this, if he was going to make others suffer at his death, then he deserved to feel all the pain and all the guilt because wilbur wasn't stupid. he _knew_ that his friends were going to miss him very much. that thought had kept him from doing anything before tonight, but finally he compromised with himself that he would just deal with the consequences when he was dead.

and of course, he was going to miss it all too. he would miss the sound of guitar strings playing off-tune chords, the way the strings brought pain to his fingers. wilbur would miss the wild, almost manic laughter of tommy, the warmth of phil he never got to experience from his own parents, tubbo's moments of complete bliss, and the rest of the crew. everything he loved would soon be washed away from him, because of his own accord.

it felt as if his perception on the world became warped as he dived deeper and deeper into his swirling thoughts, his sight becoming slightly dazed. he knew he had waited here too long as is, because the mcdonald's sign flashed a bright 3:02 AM in the distance. he took a swift breath, then immediately regretted it as he coughed because of the vast amounts of rapid, cool air he had just inhaled.

a small chuckle slipped past his chapped lips and he bunched his sweater sleeves up. he lifted himself onto a position where he was now sitting on the railing of the bridge. looking over the water once more, he wondered again and again what would happen if he somehow _didn't_ die. if he miraculously survived that fall, and was just stuck floating down the river for a while. he wouldn't be able to call for help, he had left his phone at home. the suicide note would still post and he'd still be alive. surely if he survived and that happened, he would need to quit his career. if he got out of the water somehow, that is. 

wilbur shook his head. no need to think about what _could_ happen, only what is happening because at this state, it's too late to turn back. his figure is already slowly slipping off the railing, along with his fingers. in a few more moments, he wouldn't be able to lift himself back up and onto the bridge. 

_this is goodbye_ , he thinks. wilbur notices thats probably the most coherent thought he's had all day, even if it is a bit cliche. 

suddenly, wilbur could feel every trace of the wind on his skin.

suddenly, he was hyperaware of the long distance down that was slowly but surely coming onto him. 

suddenly, his brain blanked. devoid of any more thoughts. 

he let his hands slip off the railing, letting go of the little support they were keeping for his body. 

a few seconds passed, and the world and his breath went blank. 

**Author's Note:**

> this was a bit shorter than im used to, tell me how you feel in the comments!


End file.
